tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-157111362024-03-07T01:14:37.264-05:00Life as a BookIF, WHEN FORCED TO CHOOSE BETWEEN GIVING UP SEX OR BOOKS, YOU DOUBLE-OVER AND BEGIN WEEPING, THIS IS THE SITE FOR YOU.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-70959953040138611492010-02-26T16:11:00.005-05:002010-02-26T16:27:07.716-05:00Which book is most likely to make you a mouth-breather as it belts out a perfect rendition of "Mr. Roboto"?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6qd1RHP4NI0v390d1GP6jeCB_cZvJTyeQ840MCaFUaDBYK6CpBExKRiOQhd_hEuMemIV0Ta8GLK7pxxleMnrjRfyGJu0_58QRYci8zEaTZx3QvqlC8KC2FWrMdAm38AqhoF6/s1600-h/9780140434767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6qd1RHP4NI0v390d1GP6jeCB_cZvJTyeQ840MCaFUaDBYK6CpBExKRiOQhd_hEuMemIV0Ta8GLK7pxxleMnrjRfyGJu0_58QRYci8zEaTZx3QvqlC8KC2FWrMdAm38AqhoF6/s320/9780140434767.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><br />
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It may appear meek on the outside, but you better believe that <span style="color: #b45f06;">Sarah Orne Jewett's </span><i style="color: #b45f06;">Country of the Pointed Firs</i> can drink you under the table and still flawlessly hit every note at 80s night karaoke extravaganza. Strongest tunes in its repertoire?: Falco's "Rock Me Amadeus," Phil Collins's "Sussusudio," and Corey Hart's "Sunglasses at Night"dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-39767802278255543392007-04-24T10:39:00.000-05:002007-04-24T11:16:00.330-05:00Which book regularly has exploitative sex with its psychoanalyst?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6yP9dRIrGfZyEjoRfqHUhMUkqtdhItcjVRiBV0nhNpaF1jdDmR-GRomIdWiddl7otsJS8DCKtSYHrmS1YsUv8pEGWuzFXPcmnMC4wWqpQnFx9QNw-K29okJJNd7zBUVAgqQG/s1600-h/clarissa.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6yP9dRIrGfZyEjoRfqHUhMUkqtdhItcjVRiBV0nhNpaF1jdDmR-GRomIdWiddl7otsJS8DCKtSYHrmS1YsUv8pEGWuzFXPcmnMC4wWqpQnFx9QNw-K29okJJNd7zBUVAgqQG/s200/clarissa.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057027752267682242" border="0" /></a><br />I can't even begin to list all of the emotional baggage that <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Samuel Richardson's </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Clarissa: or the History of a Young Lady</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> </span>(the unabridged version, of course) must carry around inside day after day. For that matter, I can't even begin to list all of the emotional baggage I carry around inside for having read it. Those are weeks of my life I'll never get back.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-48733354590030238552007-04-03T08:16:00.000-05:002007-04-03T15:27:33.476-05:00Hot new writers to check out!It is difficult to breathe with this albatross of student research papers hanging around my neck. Friends, [she sighs with exasperation, throwing her hands up into the air] I cannot create like this, I tell you!<br /><br />So, until I am freed from this burden, read these two books. By the time you finish both and post your responses to them here, I will have finished these papers, guaranteed. Deal?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcFX-kkLK5UVMMDfFiaMPLNcjD72jRbcQsmGHKbjDDnK-I8DD8g57mYQkqRpAkAWAQWBiYxQ83U-I_JBoUn_XNAfKPQ84ONv_fmICWiRafJddn5dq5nktdJRsaN4PaH_j0TKF/s1600-h/torch.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcFX-kkLK5UVMMDfFiaMPLNcjD72jRbcQsmGHKbjDDnK-I8DD8g57mYQkqRpAkAWAQWBiYxQ83U-I_JBoUn_XNAfKPQ84ONv_fmICWiRafJddn5dq5nktdJRsaN4PaH_j0TKF/s200/torch.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049296651237354242" border="0" /></a>Praise for <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Cheryl Strayed<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">'s</span> first novel, </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Torch</span>:<br /><br />"Torch is a deeply compelling, wonderfully crafted story about a journey into, through, and past grief . . . I loved the honesty of this novel, the way it looked at every aspect of loss and recovery -- the pain, the joy, the absurdity, the anger, the despair, the hope, and the great beauty -- without ever holding back."<br /><div style="text-align: right;">---Elizabeth Berg<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCg871n8k10a2KR_32QC7IVZ2La0F3OG1Lj5V_6fTq_PyT6Ux-b6s7kkArAsgAp1sGyf4Ct8xBUTX-pYdLfNXdBFofl6QsZBCsHSuBwBqRtnMU0D78higeJGkppdFtnw4JFThh/s1600-h/peopleofpaper.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCg871n8k10a2KR_32QC7IVZ2La0F3OG1Lj5V_6fTq_PyT6Ux-b6s7kkArAsgAp1sGyf4Ct8xBUTX-pYdLfNXdBFofl6QsZBCsHSuBwBqRtnMU0D78higeJGkppdFtnw4JFThh/s200/peopleofpaper.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049298631217277714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Praise for <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Salvador Plascencia's first novel, </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The People of Paper</span>:<br /><br />"A stunning debut by a once-in-a-generation talent. I don't know of a young American writer more original, innovative, or intense than Salvador Plascencia. <span style="font-style: italic;">The People of Paper</span> is harrowing and gorgeous, experimental in the truest sense: it creates new means to explore essential and timeless emotional subjects."<br /><div style="text-align: right;">---George Saunders<br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-85291253631101926712007-03-17T00:01:00.000-05:002007-03-16T18:17:07.788-05:00A St. Patrick's Day Tribute: pick your favorite work by or about James Joyce.Happy St. Patty's Day, friends. (And, of course, a warm happy birthday to my Grandpa Lee, 1908 - 1999.) To help get us all in the appropriate spirit, I thought I'd share my favorite work about James Joyce, but feel free to jump in with your favorite picks <span style="font-style: italic;">by </span>the infamous Dubliner, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUYv35xGhG6G4jvMmOKzqCqaWHHiilcxTgEKYo5qxgPer3R7_vT1P0f0meRwzKitlLYLOGnBuvFW8A-mtrFl3R9b14A_M8bL4n_-m9zgElJ2267x3S32y0-4RRIlRWev2zrCn/s1600-h/nora.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUYv35xGhG6G4jvMmOKzqCqaWHHiilcxTgEKYo5qxgPer3R7_vT1P0f0meRwzKitlLYLOGnBuvFW8A-mtrFl3R9b14A_M8bL4n_-m9zgElJ2267x3S32y0-4RRIlRWev2zrCn/s200/nora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042658777014512866" border="0" /></a><br />I pick the ultra-sexy film, <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Nora </span>(2000, directed by Pat Murphy, starring Susan Lynch and Ewan McGregor), that explores the intensely emotional and provocative relationship between James and Nora Joyce. I found it sexy enough reading Joyce's work before seeing the film; after seeing it, you'll never be able to read his stuff without conjuring up steamy images of the fiery McGregor and Lynch . . . mmm, yummy.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Really, need I say more? Yowsa!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zWS49Hl0oJq9C4ghuNbaNPd7jzxDwtxs8krNHzxs54fl2sHkCYQbgWkbKeWYTYQ3TT1DGyGu-tm4ZftErCirZpkUB2AkQYBISAEIWCh06AkIGxmk34zHKo2NAo43a3KKOOBP/s1600-h/nora_kiss.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zWS49Hl0oJq9C4ghuNbaNPd7jzxDwtxs8krNHzxs54fl2sHkCYQbgWkbKeWYTYQ3TT1DGyGu-tm4ZftErCirZpkUB2AkQYBISAEIWCh06AkIGxmk34zHKo2NAo43a3KKOOBP/s200/nora_kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042663033327103266" border="0" /></a></div>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-62864601553930949522007-03-01T08:37:00.000-05:002007-03-01T15:19:44.057-05:00Which book is most likely to seem witty and hip when you're Instant Messaging and then turn out to be a little creepy when you meet up for drinks?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ynlzeBkY6_0vyNijT7pQ2B0xOWSFWPqh7JljLuyvnhmuNQ-gBBp5c3I02GrtBZaiQmDN4lm99ylX8AEomushAzsUZKsNHQTC-pE3H8VA3om7woUjzIu4iNZomzNL21JquDOf/s1600-h/finnegan'swake.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ynlzeBkY6_0vyNijT7pQ2B0xOWSFWPqh7JljLuyvnhmuNQ-gBBp5c3I02GrtBZaiQmDN4lm99ylX8AEomushAzsUZKsNHQTC-pE3H8VA3om7woUjzIu4iNZomzNL21JquDOf/s200/finnegan'swake.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5037049467274999090" border="0" /></a><br />I'm not ashamed to admit it: I can picture myself developing quite the online-crush on <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">James Joyce's </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Finnegans Wake</span></span>, being impressed by its quick and eccentric written banter, only to be weirded out by its complete lack of social skills in any face-to-face encounter. Suddenly, it'd be that guy who stares really intensely at the middle of your forehead and laughs like a machine-gun after comments you made that weren't intended to be funny.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-75460516164239039522007-02-13T21:50:00.000-05:002007-02-13T22:36:14.644-05:00Growing up, which book would have donned inflatable water-wings far longer than it was developmentally acceptible to do so?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhar5j8ZhGn8fGMpRw_freeJCT8PU4iqweKz-jWQEHFSYW0ld8BrSw0s8fuhgd6dJWanXEx9KTpeKkvRSxP3HaBuJzXO62yU-PVGRqFlUPMlcEyXmdRKVGOUVYHR7cMLVqE03D9/s1600-h/portnoyscomplaint.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhar5j8ZhGn8fGMpRw_freeJCT8PU4iqweKz-jWQEHFSYW0ld8BrSw0s8fuhgd6dJWanXEx9KTpeKkvRSxP3HaBuJzXO62yU-PVGRqFlUPMlcEyXmdRKVGOUVYHR7cMLVqE03D9/s200/portnoyscomplaint.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031225535344652690" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Remember that one friend you had at the pool who actually insisted on waiting an entire 30 minutes after eating before getting back in to swim because he was convinced that severe cramping would set in otherwise? I can almost picture it: <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Portnoy's Complaint</span> sitting nervously under a huge shade umbrella, watching the second-hand of the clock while his friends splash him, jeering. <br /><br />After all, this *is* why we love him so.<br /></div><br /><br /></div>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-72433546672867683682007-02-06T08:17:00.000-05:002007-02-06T13:07:59.670-05:00If Anna Karina were a book, which book would she be?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjFubV2lKiXCB3nW7XYRic-BZz7je56wXkWu6KRe4_QqU_1NZMSSfBmcNgrnqqQra8N-D0cQoCxtb67PuAXXs87z6meLUyZ1SnRQIHIfkJNKRuWkETLD5Nkx2gfrXLBOxfWB9/s1600-h/LostLunarBaedeker.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjFubV2lKiXCB3nW7XYRic-BZz7je56wXkWu6KRe4_QqU_1NZMSSfBmcNgrnqqQra8N-D0cQoCxtb67PuAXXs87z6meLUyZ1SnRQIHIfkJNKRuWkETLD5Nkx2gfrXLBOxfWB9/s200/LostLunarBaedeker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028478855051199458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />What book does the "smart, sexy and avant-garde" thing better than <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Lost Lunar Baedeker</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Mina Loy</span>? Be sure to check out the poem "Three Moments in Paris" (you can read Part I <a href="http://www.geocities.com/comprepoetica/compoems/poem35.html">here</a>) and, of course, Loy's famous "Feminist Manifesto" (153-56).dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-73450026198939015352007-02-03T15:34:00.000-05:002007-02-03T15:35:09.152-05:00You just can't find women like this anymore.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrz8dFENtezpXZ0MFVK8PMqNUpL4zQGEQmbvedECsajaoWEgBY8j97OkKOBE8szGrhHkF46HUdTkaknURgrwyD4JQX2R8Uz8iH6sAM0yttnINYftK0A5HGNuMqeMuNz_NEeRq/s1600-h/annakarina.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrz8dFENtezpXZ0MFVK8PMqNUpL4zQGEQmbvedECsajaoWEgBY8j97OkKOBE8szGrhHkF46HUdTkaknURgrwyD4JQX2R8Uz8iH6sAM0yttnINYftK0A5HGNuMqeMuNz_NEeRq/s200/annakarina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027409094661882834" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Today, when I should have been grading papers, I was sitting around wondering: why is <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0439344/">Anna Karina</a> so much better than everyone else in the world?<br /></div><br />And, so I thought I'd ask all of you:<br /><br />If Anna Karina were a book, which book do you think she would be?dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-40355194757630644782007-01-30T08:53:00.000-05:002007-01-30T15:20:42.166-05:00Are you laughing yet? Because I just peed my pants!Many thanks to 2nd-favorite-fan-of-mine-across-the-Atlantic for his contributions. (Unfortunately, we have ceased all communication because I am afraid you will think he is funnier than I am and wish you were reading his blog, instead. Dear reader, trust me, he's a jerk in real life. Also, he's horribly disfigured. Not the kind of person you'd want to hang around with.)<br /><br />But, speaking of inappropriate voiding, which book do you think would be most likely to piss its pants easily once it got laughing hard?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGJUoyXqyUtMxn0s6-Eg04bPliKRx4Dqk2z9k9LKMB0c2JWaFKWDsCzht50eg8g7Irqji5YXA-qSs0yAhDKWqYdx04TOzkna-zsWytZ0Y-IJKlWb-i29HDX8qdjzGgGcSKcj3/s1600-h/benfranklin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGJUoyXqyUtMxn0s6-Eg04bPliKRx4Dqk2z9k9LKMB0c2JWaFKWDsCzht50eg8g7Irqji5YXA-qSs0yAhDKWqYdx04TOzkna-zsWytZ0Y-IJKlWb-i29HDX8qdjzGgGcSKcj3/s200/benfranklin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025914295719019426" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I have a feeling that <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin</span> would just let it all go. A good sense of humor can sometimes be a dangerous thing.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-18824151010049253742007-01-29T08:14:00.000-05:002007-01-29T14:29:02.763-05:00And, now, for the final post compliments of 2nd-favorite-fan-of-mine-across-the-Atlantic:<span style="font-size:130%;">Which book, having discovered you midway through a suicide attempt, would sigh, shrug its shoulders and offer to help?</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnU3u6Gczd0wNUPeBPvx26JFeitV6VNTAzdqD6IrCjtY_Lr_CIyqxX6UxqS-8PV0XBvr0I1ZYoyjqjQHoc3lzZxlHzCSIPDs0IMxh2xyEx_UN1eXST71OiBToMg3zTzvambA1/s1600-h/littleengine.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnU3u6Gczd0wNUPeBPvx26JFeitV6VNTAzdqD6IrCjtY_Lr_CIyqxX6UxqS-8PV0XBvr0I1ZYoyjqjQHoc3lzZxlHzCSIPDs0IMxh2xyEx_UN1eXST71OiBToMg3zTzvambA1/s200/littleengine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023442662299255650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Little Engine that Could</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Watty Piper.</span><br /><br /><br /></div>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-54810676326498984202007-01-24T09:01:00.000-05:002007-01-29T14:30:17.832-05:00Which book would be most likely to think twice before lending you a dollar for a beer [...]<span style="font-size:130%;">while at the same time would happily sleep on your couch and take a sh*t in your toilet but doesn't flush it properly and then there's just sh*t in your toilet and you're a dollar down on the whole deal?<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYImp6C1OAh_V749AN47ZywLwi5iT2h2r8A7HGAvaIyxubXhMjYbvhfA55rlVOWXiAKi0fAUrKVUKlSjwFVg1hBOugFG73_-D7vl3U1XaAdY94LYSdbtlT4OGzdwYFMuZX2tB/s1600-h/middlemarch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYImp6C1OAh_V749AN47ZywLwi5iT2h2r8A7HGAvaIyxubXhMjYbvhfA55rlVOWXiAKi0fAUrKVUKlSjwFVg1hBOugFG73_-D7vl3U1XaAdY94LYSdbtlT4OGzdwYFMuZX2tB/s200/middlemarch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023427896201691986" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Middlemarch</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by George Eliot<br /><br /></span>(post compliments of 2nd-favorite-fan-of-mine-across-the-Atlantic)<br /><br /><br /></div>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-20953672879075628222007-01-23T20:40:00.000-05:002007-01-24T00:54:12.293-05:00Which book would call on the phone, say "I can't talk for long, as I've got to go to work," and then just ramble on nonsensically [...]<span style="font-size:130%;">and keep you talking for ages until you just want to scream "Get off my f***ing phone!" ?</span><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMGI5JdwkZaQ5n0A1MgpOIZAtA8j8Dgz9epEY093ZEff75Pz31ViK21yRm1YB7EnhyphenhyphenoFdS8ckynYr4wbdm0rY4cQQto8rafQ53CFaIrX3YjAC4sHPrNJd6GajCCDbJbTJvFMTt/s1600-h/absalom51.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMGI5JdwkZaQ5n0A1MgpOIZAtA8j8Dgz9epEY093ZEff75Pz31ViK21yRm1YB7EnhyphenhyphenoFdS8ckynYr4wbdm0rY4cQQto8rafQ53CFaIrX3YjAC4sHPrNJd6GajCCDbJbTJvFMTt/s200/absalom51.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023412949715501874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">William Faulkner's <span style="font-style: italic;">Absalom, Absalom!</span> </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">This post brought to you by 2nd-favorite-fan-of-mine-across-the-Atlantic.</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> Think about it, people; he</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">has got a point here.</span></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /></span>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-23340190226538229242007-01-23T14:10:00.000-05:002007-01-29T14:30:47.748-05:00Outraged fan of this blog speaks out!"I'm a long time listener but first time caller to your programme and I want to know what's going on? Has it really been 7 months since I was asked to consider which book would have the sexiest hidden tattoo? (Incidentally, it's Rabelais' Pantagruel, but believe me, you don't want to know where it's located.) What about an update for your legions of desperate (albeit wholly unvocal) fans?"<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br />---taken from an email I received from a friend, who shall hereafter be referred to as 2nd-favorite-fan-of-mine-across-the-Atlantic<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***<br /><br /></div>Dear 2nd-favorite-fan-of-mine-across-the-Atlantic,<br /><br />I don't know what to say, other than: I suck. I do. Really, I am a terrible person. People have been telling me this for years, but did I listen? I'm not sure I even know how to change, but, by golly, I *will* try to resurrect this blog. For the sake of the children.<br /><br />I will begin shortly (you can check back later this evening, in fact) by posting a suggestion or two of yours.<br /><br />Toodles,<br />dlbdlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1141879226228565702006-03-08T23:25:00.000-05:002006-03-11T14:09:05.976-05:00Which book is most likely to have the sexiest hidden tattoo?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/thestarcafe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/thestarcafe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When it comes to intrigue, <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Star Cafe</span> </span>takes the cake. The perfect combination of intelligence, aesthetic charm and mystery, this book is sure to have one of those take-your-breath-away-when-you-<br />uncover-it-for-the-first-time tattoos.<br />Hats off to you, Mary Caponegro.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1137121197761798222006-01-12T21:35:00.000-05:002006-01-12T22:07:18.160-05:00If you had to hike the entire Appalachian Trail, which fictional character(s) would you want to accompany you?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/seriesofunfortunateevents.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/seriesofunfortunateevents.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">No doubt about it, I'd choose</span> </span>Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire</span> from Lemony Snicket's <span style="font-style: italic;">A Series of Unfortunate Events</span>. They'd be endlessly interesting, uniquely resourceful and set a determined, yet reasonable pace. (And Sunny could protect us from bears and other critters with her biting.)dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1130386647443138252005-10-26T23:00:00.000-05:002005-10-26T23:17:27.453-05:00If life were a carnival, which book would be the bearded lady?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/illuminations.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/illuminations.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Ah, the work of <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Benjamin</span>: alienated and alienating, but overwhelmingly wondrous in its ability to present a glimpse of the miraculous.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1129262242842791622005-10-13T22:36:00.000-05:002005-10-13T22:57:22.846-05:00When you're feeling blue, which book will sing you gently to sleep?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/everythingyearnedfor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/everythingyearnedfor.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The sweet, melancholy voice of <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Everything Yearned For: Manhae's Poems of Love and Longing</span> brings peace and beauty to the most restless of nights.<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></span>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1128299659024153202005-10-02T19:11:00.000-05:002005-10-02T23:16:14.416-05:00Which book most consistently beats you at chess?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/thethingstheycarried.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/thethingstheycarried.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Neither Bobby Fischer's skill nor his staunch anti-Semitism stands a chance against the Zen art and compassion of <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Things They Carried</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Tim O'Brien</span>, a precisely crafted and mindful commentary on the Vietnam War. . . er, I mean, "police action."dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1127779672130686722005-09-26T19:07:00.000-05:002005-09-26T19:10:57.230-05:00Coming Attractions!Friends and acquaintances (anonymous or otherwise, excepting those unkind spammers who pretend to "really like your ultra-cool blog" in order to get you to visit their weight-loss pill or penis enlargement or asian child pornography site--yes, you know who you are): I have not vanished. I have only been consumed by a cruel and insatiable job market. Still, I will survive. May my loyal following stay tuned for new (though, perhaps, less frequent) postings in the near future.<br /><br />Regards,<br />dlbdlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1125335958184556012005-08-29T12:10:00.000-05:002005-08-29T12:47:52.200-05:00Which book is least likely to wear underwear on a regular basis?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/gendertrouble.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/gendertrouble.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Gender Trouble</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Judith Butler</span>,<br />as part of a whole signifying-practice-of-subversive-<br />repetition-to-deregulate-identity<br />kind of a thing.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1125071015523800592005-08-26T10:43:00.000-05:002005-08-26T11:02:25.996-05:00If you slipped while carrying your lunch tray, spilling Johnny-Marzetti down your front , which book would unabashedly enjoy a laugh at your expense?<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/gravitysrainbow.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/gravitysrainbow.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Gravity's Rainbow</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Thomas Pynchon</span><br /></div>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1125070995849752802005-08-26T10:26:00.000-05:002005-08-26T10:58:54.500-05:00...and which book would graciously help lead you to the bathroom, reassuring you (through the room's laughter) that no one noticed?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/phantomtollbooth.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/phantomtollbooth.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Phantom Tollbooth</span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Norton Juster</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/thecollectedstories.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/thecollectedstories.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Collected Stories</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Grace Paley</span>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1125000176508449502005-08-25T14:49:00.000-05:002005-08-25T15:03:29.396-05:00Which book is most destined to become your lesbian lover?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/sula.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/sula.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Damn! Have you <span style="font-style: italic;">read</span> this? Even if you never realized you had any lesbian fantasies (like you're a gay man so it's hard enough to imagine being a woman, let alone wanting to have sex with another one), pick up <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Sula</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Toni Morrison</span> and I guarantee you'll be moving to Massachusetts where your union will be recognized. You two will live happily ever after with your cats and crewcuts.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1124899636280534952005-08-24T10:57:00.000-05:002005-08-24T11:07:48.876-05:00Which book is most likely to be that crazy uncle who constantly walks around, demanding, "pull my finger"?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/tristramshandy1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/tristramshandy1.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If there's a book that, as it ages, grows more fond of cheap fart jokes, nudie mags, and Natty Light, I imagine it to be <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> by Laurence Sterne.</span> Always a source of entertainment at any family picnic.dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15711136.post-1124857501463936462005-08-23T23:25:00.000-05:002005-08-24T11:10:37.266-05:00Which book would you have been most likely to kick in the balls when you were in grade school together?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/1600/inourtime.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2403/1463/200/inourtime.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Come on. We all know it's true: there's nothing that says "I deserve sharp pain in my privates" better than<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> a book by Ernest Hemingway</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">.</span>dlbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390450352151417506noreply@blogger.com1